And I'm All Alone Now
by kathiann
Summary: Jane goes off to kill Red John, but things don't go as planned, they never do. Written for the Reverse Big Bang over on LJ, art by justlook3.


**Authors Note: **Written for The Mentalist Reverse Big Bang over on LJ. Art done by justlook3, link on my journal (or my profile if I can remember to update it). Betaed by lgmtreader, though she only got halfway through, so the mistakes are all mine and not due to her.

**And I'm All Alone Now**

It wasn't supposed to end up like this. At least, she hadn't wanted it to. She leaned against the wall, wishing there was somewhere other than the dusty ground to sit on. There was a bench, but it was further than a footstep away and she didn't trust herself to walk. She watched as police, there were always police, milled around. Too many times they had been in this situation. Local PD and CBI coming together to catch a mad man, but this time, this time it was different. She watched as a stretcher was wheeled out of the building. The second one she'd seen. The first one had been whisked away; hopefully fast enough, hopefully they would get there in time. The second came slower. Covered head to toe, top to bottom, in a white sheet. A small town like this, why was it always small towns, didn't have a body bag; they'd never needed one. The only people who died here were grandmothers at the end of long lives. They died peacefully at home and the funeral home came to get them. No one was ever shot here, no one was ever stabbed. The town wouldn't know what to do when they woke up in the morning to find themselves on CNN and Good Morning America, the subject of speculation and disbelief. They would all ask "how had this happened here" and "what's this world coming to" but they wouldn't get answers, because she didn't know. She didn't know how it had happened. All she knew is that it wasn't supposed to happen like this. It wasn't supposed to end this way.

"Hey, Boss," Van Pelt said, sticking her head into Lisbon's office. "Have you seen Jane? He was going to come with me to talk with the victim's brother and I can't seem to find him."

"Have you checked his couch? And the attic?" Lisbon asked, not really concerned.

"Yeah, both places. He's not in either." The younger woman but her lower lip, a habit she'd picked up recently when she was worried or bothered. Lisbon noted that she did it quite frequently.

"Did you check the bathroom? He is human after all, and with the amount of tea he's been drinking lately he might have actually needed to use the facilities." There was humor in her voice and she smiled at Van Pelt and could tell that she hadn't considered it.

"No, I'll go check." Before Lisbon could remind her that Jane was likely to be in the men's restroom she was gone. Lisbon just shook her head and looked down at her desk. Van Pelt had been especially flighty and almost forgetful lately. A case about a month before had left her with a concussion and off duty for a week. And even though she'd been cleared to return and had even recertified on the gun range Lisbon couldn't help but worry. When she thought about it, the lip biting had started about the same time as the head injury and she wondered if they were related. Maybe Van Pelt felt there was something wrong too.

Lisbon turned back to the paperwork on her desk. Just routine follow-up on the last case they closed. Standard run of the mill case, nothing special. No big stunts, no big chases, no plans. Just open and closed. It was obvious from the beginning who'd been the killer; that happens sometimes. The guy had even confessed, and not even under duress. Very open and shut.

The case they were on now was similar, pretty easy, a suicide probably; they were just waiting on word from the coroner, talking to family was just routine. It was as she was looking over some of the notes from the current case that Van Pelt came back in.

"Hey Boss, someone left a message for you at the front desk." Van Pelt handed Lisbon an envelope with her name scrawled on it. She recognized the writing as Jane's and wondered if the younger woman had noticed.

"Did you even find Jane?" Lisbon asked as she took the envelope cautiously.

"No, I didn't. He's not answering his phone either. Why, is something wrong?" Van Pelt was biting her bottom lip again; Lisbon didn't even have to look to know.

"I don't know yet." She looked up and smiled kindly. "Thanks, I'll let you know if I need anything. Why don't you take Rigsby out to talk to the brother?"

Lisbon waited for Van Pelt to leave her office before she turned the envelope over and slid her finger under the flap. Only the very tip of the legal size envelope had been sealed, as though the sealer had been in a great rush. She pulled out one sheet of typing paper, probably pulled out of one of the printers or copy machines, and carefully unfolded it. She didn't read what was there at first, just looked at the writing. It was Jane's alright. The scrawl was legible, but it was obvious he'd written in in a hurry. When he got impatient she noticed his handwriting got sloppy.

She almost didn't want to read what was in the note; she knew it wasn't going to be good, whatever it was. There was very little that he didn't feel comfortable telling her in person, or didn't want to tell her in person. Usually this regarded Red John, and usually he just kept whatever plans and schemes he had to himself so she wouldn't try to talk him out of it or force him to take her with him.

She wondered, just briefly, what had possessed him to write her a note—a letter almost from the length of it. She almost didn't want to read it, almost didn't want to know what it said, but she needed to know. Needed to know how bad it was going to be this time. Last time she almost lost her job and her boss had ended up dead in the back seat of a car in the middle of the Las Vegas suburbs.

_My Dearest Lisbon,_

_I'm sure you know that the only reason I would be writing you anything is if I think I won't be back to see you. I'm off to face Red John. Not that it's a surprise. How did I find him, you may ask? Well, it's not been easy. I've been tracking movements of people I think may be associated with him, which is harder than it sounds, I assure you. Especially after the last time I got so close and lost him. Also, Grace may have helped, though I don't think she fully realized it at the time. I do worry about her; she's been off kilter since her fiancé turned out to be a Red John minion. But that doesn't matter now. I shall get revenge for both of us. I will miss working with you, Teresa, and with the rest of the team. You have been the one source of amusement and enjoyment in my otherwise dreadful life since my family was murdered. Do not try to find me, you won't be able to. I don't think I'll be seeing you again._

_Patrick_

Lisbon stared at the note. He didn't think he would be coming back. That didn't necessarily mean that he thought that he was going to die, but she knew that even as a murderer he would still come back to the CBI, he'd done it before. Sure, it wasn't really Red John that he killed, but she still thought that he might come back.

She knew that if she was going to help Jane, either keep him from killing someone he thought to be Red John or keep Red John from killing him, that she would have to act quickly. Counting on Van Pelt to have not left with Rigby yet, she grabbed a piece of paper out of the bottom of one of her desk drawers and hurried in to the bull pen.

"Van Pelt!" she called out, seeing the red head sitting at her desk.

"Yes, Boss? We were just going to leave, Rigsby had to make a phone call first." She looked nervous, distracted, but Lisbon couldn't worry about that now.

"I need you to track this GPS for me." Lisbon handed Van Pelt the paper that had been sitting in her desk for over a year. As far as she knew, Jane had never found it. And if he did, hopefully he wouldn't have known what it was.

"Sure, who are we tracking?" She pulled up the program on her computer and typed in the code that Lisbon gave her.

"Jane. We need to figure out where he is. And as long as he's never realized that I put a GPS tracking device on his car we're in good shape. Assuming that he took his car."

"Took his car where?" Rigsby asked, coming but behind the two women bent over the computer screen.

Lisbon straightened and motioned to Cho to join them before answering. "Jane has gone off, alone, to hunt someone he thinks is Red John. I know this isn't the first time he's done it, but this time is different. This time he kept it hidden from all of us."

"Ok, got him. His car is stationary, which is good, that means that he's wherever he plans to stay. I've got the GPS coordinates; it looks like it's in the hills somewhere. We can track him with a hand held device, just in case he starts moving again."

"OK, I want you guys to follow me, but don't come in wherever he is. I want to talk to him alone first, see what he's got going on, see where he's at mentally before the cavalry shows up. Just hang back. I'll make sure to wear a walkie-talkie and keep the mike open so you can all hear what's going on."

They all murmured their consent, knowing how volatile the situation with Red John and Jane was. They'd seen it before. Last time Lisbon and Rigsby had even faked their own deaths to try and fool him. Not that it had mattered.

Lisbon drove alone in her car. The sun had started to set, clouds had rolled in, she wouldn't be surprised if the wind started blowing and rain started pounding any moment now. It would fit. Jane's car still hadn't moved; it'd been just over an hour since she'd started out on this journey to keep him from harming himself, and others, and still she felt no closer than she had when she was sitting in her office at the CBI building.

She had left the main highway miles before and was now meandering through back roads and small towns, the last of which was still spread our around her, if there had been snow it would have been like the village scenes that her grandmother set up in her window every Christmas. All twinkling lights and happy faces. But right now it was just dim, only a few lights on and people mostly at home.

The GPS told her that she needed to pull off the road into a very poorly lit road that was more gravel than asphalt and more dirt than gravel and in several places had large pot holes that threatened to swallow her car. She didn't know how Jane had managed to get his car down this road without popping a tire and found herself wishing, and not for the first time, that this wouldn't all end up coming back to bite her in the ass.

She glanced down at the device on the dashboard. Almost there. It was even darker now, the trees around her were blocking out the light. Even though Van Pelt said that his car was in the foot hills, Lisbon couldn't help but think that they were pretty far away from the city, pretty deep into the forest.

The road she was on curved around a patch of dense trees and then opened up into a clearing where there were two cars parked in front of what was probably a hunting cabin, or vacation home to someone who was not too prosperous, but still had a bit of extra cash. She was glad that she had resisted the urge to turn on the lights; she didn't want anything to give away her presence. Not knowing what was going on in that cabin. There was only one light visible through the windows, and she only recognized Jane's car.

From where she was parked she was able to see the license plate of the other car and made a quick call to the team to make sure they stayed back on the main road. Another call into dispatch and she was able to check the license plate. It was registered to a car rental company out of Sacramento, so that wasn't really much help.

She took a deep breath, checked to make sure her weapon was loaded and securely in place and quietly, slowly, exited her car. She silently closed the door; she didn't want to appear obvious that something was going on if for some reason someone was to come upon this slightly out of the way cabin.

She walked toward the front door, debating on whether she should draw her weapon or not. She didn't want to make Jane do something rash, like shoot her, but she also didn't want to be defenseless. IN the end she settled for cautiously opening the door and keeping her hand on her gun.

She walked through the open living space towards the light coming from underneath a door in the back of the cabin. That must have been the light she'd seen from outside. She flattened herself along the wall be the door, listening, straining for any sound. She put her ear to the door, hoping to hear Jane. And then she did. And she almost wished she hadn't.

It would have been easier if Jane hadn't been in there. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but there was no denying that it was his voice.

She put her hand on the doorknob and was about to push it open when she heard a creak behind her. She froze. She wasn't expecting anyone else. With her hand still on the knob, she spun around and pulled her gun out of the holster at the same time.

There was on one there.

Sighing at her over active imagination she turned back to the door and slowly turned the handle. She didn't open the door. Not really, just pushed it open a crack, just enough to see through, so she could get a sense of what was going on in the room in front of her.

She could see Jane, his back was to her, and someone tied to a chair. The persons head was down and Jane was waving his arms, though his volume of his voice didn't seem to match the ferocity of his body language. She took a gamble and pushed the door open a bit more, hoping that it wouldn't creak, and that if it did Jane would be too involved in the scene before her to notice.

She started to inch in the room when she had the door open far enough. She never took her eyes off of Jane or the person—she still couldn't tell if it was a man or woman—in the chair. Jane had a knife, for this she was grateful. She could defend herself against a mad man with a knife much easier than a mad man with a gun. If Jane came at her with a knife, she'd be able to stop him, either with her fists or a bullet, she just hopped it didn't come to that.

As she got closer, she could hear Jane talking. It was almost a whisper and the knife seemed to be used to keep the person in submission.

"I'm done playing games with you. You've screwed not just with me, but with everyone I know. You've messed with my life, my friends, my family. You continually make it so that I can't be happy, so that I can't move on. But I don't want to move on. I don't want to be happy. I want revenge. I want you to suffer like I've suffered. That was my mistake last time. A public place. You would never want to meet me in a public place." Jane lunged with the knife, causing the person in the chair, a man Lisbon could finally see, to rear back.

The prisoner must have seen her because the look on his face was one of hope and terror at the same time. And Jane saw the change.

Whirling around Jane stared at Lisbon. "What are you doing here?" he asked, almost yelled, but not quite. "I told you to stay away!"

Lisbon raised her gun which had been at her side since she'd been startled in the main room and leveled it at Jane. "Don't do this Jane. You know it's not the right thing to do. Somewhere, deep inside I know that you know killing this man won't bring you any closure. It won't bring your family back."

"That's where you're wrong Lisbon. While killing Red John might not bring back my family, it will make me feel better." His attention was focused entirely on her and Lisbon was trying to keep one eye on Jane's Knife and the other on the man behind him.

"Jane, just put the knife down, we can end this happily and no one has to get hurt." She took a hesitant step toward him, though there was still a good deal of space between them.

"That's where you're wrong. He is not leaving here alive. I am going to make him suffer like I have suffered." Jane's voice quivered a bit, as if he was holding back tears and for a moment Lisbon almost felt sorry for him. The wrong emotion, she knew, but couldn't help it.

"You're not the only one who's suffered Jane." A voice, almost out of nowhere, spoke and Lisbon spun her head around to see where the sound had come from. Van Pelt was standing in the doorway of the room, gun drawn and leveled at Jane. "You're not the only one who Red John has treated like a personal play thing."

Lisbon opened her mouth to speak but before any words could come out she saw, more than heard, the muzzle of Van Pelt's gun flash, the smoke as the bullet came flying out, and then she heard Jane's gasp.

Lisbon turned towards Jane, expecting to see him on the ground, but he was standing upright. The man in the chair had a large red patch on his chest, growing larger and Lisbon realized what happened, Van Pelt had shot the man that Jane claimed was Red John.

"WHAT DID YOU DO!" Jane bellowed, turning to Van Pelt, knife still in his hand.

"Jane." Lisbon tried to call to him, but he didn't hear you.

"I did what you couldn't." Van Pelt said, lowering her gun.

"Grace." Lisbon tried to call to her, but it was like she wasn't in the room. She didn't know who to go to, who to restrain. Van Pelt had shot a man in cold blood, but Jane still held a knife.

And as she was deciding Jane rushed, not towards her, but towards Grace his knife up. Lisbon quickly holstered her weapon and rushed towards them, but Jane was closer and quicker and got to van Pelt before she could.

There was blood, how there was so much blood in such a short period of time Lisbon didn't know, but Jane was slashing at Van Pelt with his knife, yelling, screaming "It's not fair, he was mine" and it didn't look like Van Pelt was putting up a fight.

It took more strength than Lisbon realized she had to pull Jane off of the younger woman. Somehow she was able to get him to drop the knife and she pulled his hands behind his back to slap cuffs on him to keep him from doing any more damage. Lisbon could feel the panic setting in as she looked at Van Pelt and the quickly widening pool of blood around her. She pulled out her phone and made a call to 911, telling them she had an officer down and a civilian with a gunshot wound.

She staid by Van pelt, trying to stop the bleeding of the knife wounds with her jacket, but she wasn't sure it was working. She heard the ambulance but still didn't get up. Voices calling, sounding like Cho and Rigsby and then EMTs were pulling her off Van Pelt, getting to work on her, moving her and there must have been another team that looked at the other man, but they were a lot less hurried, a lot less frenzied. Van Pelt was a good shot, the man was dead.

Standing just outside the cabin as local law enforcement and CBI reinforcements started arriving, Lisbon took a deep breath, careful not to look at her hands knowing she would see blood there, and spoke to Rigsby and Cho for the first time.

"Where were you?" Her voice was full of sorrow and pain and neither of the men in front of her spoke for a few minutes, trying to gather their thoughts.

"She said she was worried about you going in there alone, that she was going to follow you but hold back outside, just close enough to see you if anything went down. She told us to stay in the car." Cho spoke first, always the braver of the two.

"We didn't know she was going to do this." Rigsby said, despair evident in his voice.

She just nodded and looked around. It wasn't supposed to have ended like this.


End file.
